


The Way You See Me

by debwalsh



Series: Bingo-Bingo [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Body Dysphoria, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Happy Steve Bingo, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 22:09:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16773880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/debwalsh/pseuds/debwalsh
Summary: Bucky doesn't like who he's become, but there's someone who loves him no matter what he looks like.





	The Way You See Me

**Author's Note:**

> For my second Happy Steve Bingo square, Body Issues.

Bucky stared at his reflection and frowned. He was all angles and hard planes, muscles and weathered skin. His hair was scraped back from his face in a severe ponytail, a practical way to get his hair out of his face, hair that was long and unruly because he was reluctant to let anyone near his head with sharp implements. His face scowled back at him with deep shadows under his gray-blue eyes, where his cheekbones cut in his cheeks, and darker still where his stubble followed the line of his jaw and over his lip.

There was nothing soft about him. He felt abrasive and jagged, like broken glass moved beneath his skin and not bone and muscle.

He was soft once. Before. He remembered soft, curves to his cheeks, flesh at his belly. Smooth lines to his body. Baby fat. 

Soft.

He pulled up his black t-shirt, rucked it up under his armpits, and stared at the sharp lines of his abdomen, his chest. Definition upon definition. He couldn’t see himself anymore in the carved lines of marble that his body had become. He puffed out his cheeks and shoved out his stomach, trying to make himself look soft, look fat, look like he wasn’t battle-hardened, annealed in fire and blood.

He slid his flesh hand down the convex shape of his body as he struggled to maintain the guise. He felt tears prick at his eyes as his fingers rippled across the unyielding steel of his muscles beneath the skin.

He wanted to be soft. He was anything but.

“Whatchya doin’ Buck?” he heard Steve ask in that voice that hinted at laughter, an undercurrent of affection and humor that tethered him to the here and now.

“Uhgn,” he answered with a frustrated grunt.

Then he felt the wall of heat that was Steve’s magical body adhere itself to his body from head to toe, Steve’s breath skittered along his neck and shoulder as his big hands slid around his waist to settle over Bucky’s, threading their fingers together. He settled his arms around Bucky’s body and gently rocked them side to side while he nuzzled at Bucky’s neck. “Something’s bothering you. Can I help?” he asked softly, his breath warming Bucky’s skin.

“I don’t wanna be like this anymore,” Bucky finally admitted as he shifted his neck to give Steve better access.

“Like what? Talk to me, Buck.”

“Like this,” he said, nodding vaguely to himself.

Steve lifted Bucky’s metal hand to his lips, and placed a kiss on each knuckle before answering. “You don’t like being the most beautiful man in the world?”

“I don’t like being hard. I want ... I want to be soft.”

“Okay,” Steve replied, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s cheek. “I’m not sure how, but we’ll try to make that happen.”

Bucky turned his face to catch Steve’s profile. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised because it was, well, Steve. “Really? You wouldn’t mind?”

“Mind what? It’s your body. All I ask is that whatever you do, you do it healthy. Now what is it exactly that you want?”

“I don’t want to fight anymore.” He drew a deep breath, closing his eyes as his lungs filled with air and Steve’s presence filled his whole being with warmth.

“Okay. That I can take care of. No one has claim over you and no one can force you to fight. Do you want to be involved at all? In Avengers stuff?”

“Planning, maybe. Strategy. And maybe I should look after your weapons. Since you’re absolute shit about taking care of anything but that damned shield.”

Steve chuckled and hid his face in Bucky’s ponytail. Then he started to undo it, saying, “This looks too tight, Buck. Gonna give yourself a headache.”

The affection in the gesture and the words made Bucky smile, an expression he quickly suppressed. Wouldn’t do to let the punk know how giddy he made him, after all. Instead, he said, “Already got you. Enough of a headache.”

“Ha, ha, ha. Seriously, though, what else?”

“I wanna stop doing drills. Working out all the time. Sparring’s okay, it let’s me blow off steam. But I don’t wanna do anything to maintain this,” he nodded toward his own torso. “I wanna get fat, like a big old tabby.”

“Hmmm. Not sure that’s possible. I think the serum’ll take care of anything out of parameters. Hell, I’m not sure either of us actually have to work out in order to maintain optimal muscle mass.”

“Then why do you run like a fuckton of miles every day, numbnuts?”

“Because I can, jerk. Because once upon a time, I was scrawny, sickly, with one foot in the grave. You remember. I couldn’t run for shit, not and hope to continue breathing. I run because I can push myself and push myself, and all I feel is good. Strong. Worthwhile. Not like I felt when we were younger. I like feeling like I can take on the world, like I can do what needs to be done.”

“You could always do that, Steve. Your heart was bigger’n anyone’s. Still is. There’s no way you were ever less than completely, totally, and wholeheartedly worthwhile.”

“Yeah? Didn’t feel like it when I was wheezin’ and gaspin’ and you were out on the town endangerin’ the virtue of the daughters of Brooklyn.”

“Ah, I was never that bad. I was always a perfect gentleman. Had my eye on somebody a little closer to home.”

“Yeah? You never said. I’d watch you go out the door, and my heart would break a little, wishing I could be the one you held close.”

Bucky turned then, pivoting inside the circle of Steve’s arms. He slid his hands up along the firm flesh of Steve’s abs, the defined line of his pectorals, up over the curve of his collar bone, and settled on the plane of his shoulders. Funny, all that strength and solidity felt right on Steve, yet it felt so wrong on him. But Bucky tugged Steve’s face down to press their lips together, smiling into the kiss. “Always wanted to be holding you, not the girls. Wanted to dance with you, hold you close, kiss you right there on the dance floor. Killed me, leaving you behind.”

“Killed me watching you go. If the asthma didn’t get me first, that is.”

“I like that you’re healthy now. But you were always beautiful.”

“Nah. I was a shrimp with a chip on my shoulder -“ Bucky cut off Steve’s protests with his fingers against his lips.

“You were beautiful. You still are.” Bucky withdrew his fingers and pressed his lips against Steve’s again. To emphasize his point, of course.

When they came up for air, Steve breathed, “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Bucky Barnes.” Bucky grimaced and shook his head, the memory of the hard muscle of his abdomen fresh in his mind. Steve caught his chin and held his face steady while he stared into Bucky’s eyes with those impossibly blue eyes of his. “I can’t bear to think you don’t know this, Buck. You are beautiful. You’ve always been beautiful. And no matter what you choose, you’ll always be beautiful.”

“Even if I’m fat?”

“I don’t think you can get fat. But as long as you stay healthy about it, yeah, you’d be beautiful even if you were fat.”

“And when I get old? Wrinkly and smelly and ancient?”

“Even then, ‘cos I’ll be just as bad. Even if you’re bald.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. I’ll take the wrinkles, but I ain’t giving up my hair.”

“Okay. Fat, wrinkly, smelly, and ancient, with great hair. Got it. And still beautiful.”

“Okay.”

END

**Author's Note:**

> Three more squares for this challenge by Saturday!
> 
> Don't forget to subscribe to me or my series Bingo-Bingo to be notified when I post more.
> 
> Thank you for your kudos, comments, and bookmarks!


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